


This never happened

by Holycowbrowniekitty



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 11:57:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15364146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holycowbrowniekitty/pseuds/Holycowbrowniekitty
Summary: Normal morning, normal day, Bane thought it'd be when he threw off the sheets and basked in the morning glory. Except why was he in Bane's room? And why did he sound like Bane? (Un)fortunately he finds out he isn't the only one stuck in his predicament. Davide is flirting with his sister and Saeki goes back to bed. Just a bunch of Rokkaku having Rokkaku adventures.





	This never happened

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to try something.

Crunchy. That was the only way to describe it. A nauseous ball wormed itself through his intestines, pulsating with vigor, making his abs pull themselves together. Yet he couldn’t stop stroking his hair, as if his hands, glued to his head, longed for the stimulating contact.

Flakes of dried up gel cluttered the sink, and more followed, making their horrifying presence known with pitter-patter as they dropped against the marble. After each brush stroke, those sounds and a groan followed. He swallowed, twice, when he realized that a shower was necessary.

His fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, and it was hard to repress the curiosity to pinch it and take a look at his own cleavage, which was, as he could feel, adorned with sprouts of hair. His stomach churned again as the cloth was dropped in one of the washing bins, fan whirring in the background as it caressed Bane’s defined body. The courage to take off his briefs lacked, but the pressing need to relieve himself as any man would in the morning overwhelmed him.

He inhaled deeply, took it out and prayed, eyes shut but comforted when the sound of water hitting water, or at least the marble resounded.

Two things had hit him that morning.

One. Jake.

Jake had assaulted him that morning, antsy for his morning run that was 30 minutes overdue, but Bane had kicked the dog away, cursing and apologizing when it yelped and ran downstairs.

Two. His voice.

He grabbed at his throat, and coughed, repeating “Shit, sorry,” trying to correct his intonation, but felt his world grow mistier the more his grunts reverberated through his bone as tremors, unfamiliar and roaring. He jolted up, throwing the sheets aside scanning his environment, analyzing it until he could conclude that it was not his room but his friend’s. “Bane,” he mumbled, before grabbing at his neck area again, letting his fingers pinpoint the prominent adam’s apple.

Pools were growing at his armpits, and his back suddenly felt sticky and moist. The shorts weren’t his. A design with black lightning bolts, might’ve seen it in a fashion mag, but not his. And neither were the legs sticking out of them, as muscly and tanned they might be.

His mind, duller than the knife they used to smear toast with butter, short circuited, in its place muscle becoming the way of coping as he punched a wall.

Horrified at himself and the crack it left in the wall, Bane steeled himself and scrunched his eyebrows together, finding composure in the background noises, but had trouble concentrating. His mind jumped around on its own, failing to recall precise memories, conjuring images of banality and vulgarity instead, there where he didn’t think he could. The banelity of it. His quadriceps twitched.

* * *

 

Amane, or Davide as the story would have you believe, went through many of the same motions, fascinated by his new physique.

“Hikaru?”

He threw his head backwards, toothpaste dripping of his chin. Oh right! Davide had a sister around his age didn’t he? Her surprise at her brothers’ conductment turned into rage as she saw the familiar accessories adorning his bangs.

“What are you doing with my hairclips!” she yelled, her claws furiously, like the color of her hair, striking at his kelp. It was rather easy to hold her back, but he was afraid and flustered at her boldness in behavior and…clothing.

He didn’t pay her much attention from afar, but now that she was up and close- a bit too close- he could see her filled décolleté, through a rather flimsy excuse of a shirt, which sent the blood rushing to his cheeks and much to his fortune not downstairs. “S-sis,” he stammered out, trying to shield his vision innocently with his wide hands.

“Who said you could use my hairclips?” she huffed, “My special, hairclips!” with an accusing tone, but without any vitriol or I-will-tell-mom-tone that he was used to from his brothers.

Glancing away, focusing on the window, he gathered his thoughts “I couldn’t find my hair wax,” eyebrows kept in check but with a guilty look that betrayed his lies. His sister grimaced and took the cabinet handle, shoving it aside with hidden rage. “What about this?” she said, exposing two cans of rose wax. Davide’s favorite.

“T-thanks.” He didn’t know how Davide styled his hair. “I think I want to go for a wild look today.” He stared expectantly at his sister, but she squinted and wordlessly left the room. As he caught his breath, a loud “Don’t use my hairclips though!” met his ears.

And like that, he skipped, or half-skipped (Big guys like Davide didn’t skip or run, he realized soon enough) to school, hair an absolute mess, which wasn’t that noticeable considering most had to strain their necks to meet eyes with him. It was quite uplifting. Pf. And it was hair he inhairited anyway. Pf.

He walked past the station, and then lost his train of thoughts. Pf.

He had underestimated the distance between Davide’s house and school. He picked up the pace because he was running late. Pf.

Being in Davide’s mind had its benefits, like an enlarged vocabulary and creative use of those. And it kept flowing, mapping unknown terrain in his brain that he had never experienced before, like a flowchart. Pf.

It didn’t take long for a leg to greet his face. And surprisingly, he was longing for it. Pf.

“Davide,” Bane started, unusually calm to hide his panic, “Fancy seeing you so late.”

“Likewise, Bane-san,” Davide stiffly replied, caught off guard by the terrible smack.

Both noticed something was off about the other, but found no sensible thread to unravel, coolly staring each other down.

“What’s up with your hair Davide,” Bane asked. It was a mess to be benevolent, the big mass tied up, but more akin to a rattail than a ponytail, skewed to the right. Loose strands swam in his eyes and he couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable he looked with those bangs restricting his vision.  He never really saw Davide from up above like this, but even he could tell that this was not what he intended.

“The usual,” Davide said, not breaking his façade. Did he mess up? He never really had long hair so putting it in a ponytail was a challenge, but his nape felt free and chilly, and it’s not like anyone could see the difference. Bane shot him a dirty look.

“Turn around Davide, I’m fixing this,” Bane said against his better judgement. It was an impulse, but hair disasters couldn’t be overlooked. With a few quick snaps, the ponytail was high and even, although the ugly bangs and general chaos couldn’t be arranged that quickly, especially now that it felt like he was operating two claw machines instead of hands. Turning the man around, he assessed the man’s condition.

This Bane was not used to looking down at Davide and found himself getting lost in his doe-eyed look. That Davide, he really has a cute look in his eyes sometimes.

Bane’s voice resonated throughout his head, remembering the words well, but doubting that it pertained to the face this Davide was making.

As for the man in question, he was amazed by how well he could see the details on his partner’s face, taking in the details and feeling his face flush with embarrassment when Bane pulled back abruptly.

“Are you Davide?” Bane asked. “Or let me rephrase that, are you trapped inside Davide’s body?”

He gathered his composure, surprised by the cool and collected way Bane rolled his words without hesitation. “Yeah, I am. I woke up and before I knew it,” Davide said, arching his body back to show off his musculature.

“Fantastic,” Bane noted, hint of sarcasm and benchmark cynicism. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Aoi Kentarou! You know, the captain of the tennis club at Rokkaku!”

“Proof?” Bane snickered. “Perhaps you’re just playing me for a fool.” It did seem that the switching only affected his team members. His family was still normal and he didn’t detect the uneasiness in his surroundings, but if any higher power was at play here, he’d not let his guard down in the slightest.

“Proof? C’mon that’s no fair Bane-san,” Davide pouted, kicking Bane softly in his legs, before an imaginary lightbulb illuminated his eyes. And they were already so uncanny sparkly. “What about you,” Davide said, reasonably suspicious of Bane’s abnormally calm behavior.

“”I asked first, please respect your elders,” Bane huffed.

“Oh, okay, you’re definitely not Bane-san,” Davide accused. Respecting Bane was a chore. “Ryou-kun?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Hit the nail right on the head kid,” he said in his best Bane’s imitation. He closed his eyes and sighed, “It seems likely that Bane and Davide are stuck in our bodies.”

Davide rubbed his forehead. “So actual Davide is in my body? Making puns?”

“Probably, assuming we did switch bodies, although I wouldn’t stake my life on it.”

A silent feeling of discomfort crept up Bane’s back and entangled his mind. If the actual real Bane was in his body-

“Bane- I mean Ryou-kun, are you okay?” Davide called out to him. “You look a bit pale.”

And he would turn into many other palettes if his suspicions were true. Bane was a cool guy, nice and macho but all the years he had spent carefully cultivating his image using his little brother and his good looks, calculating his words and forlorn glances would be thrown out the window. All the effort, smashed like a juicy watermelon on the beach.

Yesterday, when Ryou was still in his favorite body, he felt a bit nauseous before going to sleep. If only that nauseous was a sign of sure sickness, a sickness so terrible it’d leave him bed bound and unable to attend school. If only, but he knew his mother wouldn’t stand for it. He could only swallow and bite his tongue. Kentarou didn’t knew how easy it had, Davide would only make puns and be a bit socially awkward. Hell, he’d probably be more popular with the girls than he’d ever be, an advantage! Bane would destroy his intellectual and social career. Fool thought Italian was a type of food.

He was kind of right. They arrived at the school gates.

“Ryou-kun, do you have this weird feeling like we’ve forgotten something?”

Bane scrunched up his nose and pondered, but shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Davide looked at the gates, an uneasy feeling boiling, but hidden by steam. “Guess it’s just me huh.”

Yesterday was quite a party for the tennis club, ending with the usual barbecue. He went to sleep. But everything between those two events seemed like a blur. He could imagine and guess what happened with accuracy but still-

Shit. They had to go to class.

 

 


End file.
